“Boy-next-door type. Tight black tee. Good manners.”
The corners of her mouth tugged down. “Ah well, could be worse.”
I flicked some of the masticated onion and coriander back at her. “No one’s attractive to you at the moment except alternative musicians.”
She conceded the point with a small smile, sipping her watermelon mojito.
“Plus.” I continued. “Rhys was the warm-up. You should’ve seen the specimen who almost ran me over.”
Watermelon mojito sprayed across the table.
I eyed the droplets covering the empty platter. “You should practice keeping stuff inside your mouth.”
“You were almost run over?” she screeched, drawing the attention of the nearest table of college guys.
“Oh, yeah. That happened,” I said, ducking my head. “Guess I should have started with that.”
She slid off the stool and rounded the high circle table. Ignoring my protests, she patted me down.
I batted away her hands. “Jesus, ruffian. Get your damn paws off me. I’m fine.”
Ignoring me, she returned to her stool once reassured I wasn’t an inch from death. The college guys at the table over threw wide smiles our way.
With practiced movements, Tommy scanned them and picked out the most miserable one, winking.
I let my hair fall forward to hide my grin.
“I thought you’d met someone,” I said when she’d finished her first round of flirting.
She flicked her jaw-length chestnut hair back, blasting Mr Misery with another lash-batting come-hither. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.
Tommy cleared her throat. “I have. But it’s casual.”
“You only do casual.” Which concerned me. She was the same age as me—and had never had a boyfriend. Not even a two-weeks-when-you’re-thirteen one. I was fine with her having fun as long as my main girl didn’t have some commitment problem.
“Exactly,” she announced. “Anyway, you were telling me about nearly dying from hot guy.”
I thought of the man who’d approached in slow motion as though we were in some kind of perfume commercial. Or maybe the slow-motion part was just my dirty mind. Wowsies, he was truly the hottest guy I’d ever seen. Talk about instant ladyboner.
Then I remembered his superiority complex and scowled. “I didn’t nearly die from hot guy—though he’d agree with you.”
“So he was really hot then. And rich.”
“I—” I squinted at her. “How did you know he was rich?”
“It’s your ironic caveat. You hate the rich world, but you’re attracted to rich men.”
“Wash your mouth out.”
Her chestnut gaze danced. “Am I right or am I right?”
“Rhys might not be rich,” I grumbled. Though I had envisioned him in a suit. Did I have a complex?
Tommy sighed. “For what it’s worth, what happened to you at that party with Business Guy when you were seventeen has probably made you hate them. Rich guys, that is.”
I sipped at my mojito before remembering I’d necked it in the first five minutes. The straw made a bubbling sound of complaint as it encountered thin air.
I know, buddy. I know.
This was one of those days where I would’ve kept them coming, but I wouldn’t do that on Tommy’s dime. She helped her father pay all the bills at home—including the bill for her pop in the dementia ward of Bluff City Retirement Village.
“I dislike rich guys because I’ve never met one who wasn’t an A-hole,” I shot back. “That arrogance in guys sets my blood at boiling point. Though he did have a three-piece suit on. With a slim tie. That, if he wasn’t a jerk, I might have had the urge to loosen.”
Her eyes glazed. “Oh yeah. I’m there now. And are we on a white leather sofa or poolside? Is he wearing anything else? What are you wearing?”
Laughter trembled on my lips. She always made me feel better. “You need to message your guy tonight for an urgent sleepover. But back to the job thing. I’m not going to worry about it. From what you and Rhys were saying, it’s a miracle I even got an interview. So I won’t hold my breath—I’ll keep an eye on my emails and keep applying for jobs in the meantime.”
“Check now,” Tommy said, drawing out her phone—another of my hand-me-downs.
“Chh, like they’ve already emailed.” I still reached for the offered phone, entering her passcode.
She made eyes at Misery again as I logged into my email.
“Are you going to get his number?” I murmured, waiting for the page to load.
She hummed. “He’s on thin ice. I’ve given him the look twice. He’s either not into me or not confident. I’ll give him one more go and then cut him loose.”
I chuckled, but it faded as my eyes snagged on the top email in my inbox. “Whoa. I have an email from them.” I read the subject lines of the other emails. There was one from my grandmother that I wasn’t touching. The others were from companies I purchased products from in the past and now they felt they could email me for the rest of my life.
Tommy rounded the table. “Open it.” She slapped my arm.
“Ouch. I’m doing it.” I clicked on the email and scanned the contents in mounting disbelief.
I turned to Tommy, my mouth slightly ajar. “Are you reading what I’m reading?”
She recited, “Dear Miss Basi, thank you for your interest in the trainee position at Live Right Realty. We were delighted with your résumé and interview and would like to offer you the position.”
The email went on to detail the payment structure and duration of the traineeship.
“Thirty thousand for the year,” I said, glancing at Tommy. I spent that much in a week sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. “Is that good?”
She grimaced. “No. But it’s a traineeship. When you complete the training, your salary will go up. By a lot usually. I earn thirty-seven thousand a year. Plus, this says that you’ll receive a 1 percent commission bonus of any house you secure.”
“Is that normal terminology for real estate? Secure.” It sounded weird to me. Though my work experience was limited to large-scale, international businesses to be fair—none of which involved realty.
Her face was as blank as mine.
I chewed on my lip. “I have almost no money. I need to take this job.”
“You have nearly three thousand dollars, Basi. That isn’t no money,” she said drily.
What? My pocket change? I hurried to shove down my confusion, feeling that this might be a Y S I S moment.
“Yes, of course,” I said hastily. “But I have to get a place to live.”
Tommy nodded. “True. You’ll need to pay a bond and get a few things for that. Cheap things.” She glanced at me.
I waved her away. “I know, I know. I’m going to email Live Right back now. It says that I’ll start the day after tomorrow if I accept the role.”
“Basil…”
At her odd tone, I glanced up.
She hesitated. “This isn’t coming from a jealous place, so don’t mistake it for that. It’s just… I know a bunch of people who’ve gone for that job. No one ever gets it. You said the receptionist was looking at your pack and digging for your last name. Are you certain she didn’t put two-and-two together? What if she only offered the role because you’re a Le Spyre?”